


A Candy Neverland

by CloudDreamer



Series: Theater of Tragicomedy [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Candy, Depression, POV Second Person, The Homestuck Epilogues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 17:07:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18815284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CloudDreamer/pseuds/CloudDreamer
Summary: John thinks about the way his life has gone.





	A Candy Neverland

There’s nothing left for you to do but think.

The wind whistles through your hair. It’s almost gentle. Nothing here is too harsh. The sky is so blue, and the sun doesn’t burn your eyes or melt your skin. It’s perfect, except when it’s not. The breeze is a reminder of too much, of friends you had once but let go.

And for what?

You stare into that too blue sky, and you wonder if you should’ve done something sooner. You wonder if you should do something now. 

Your breath fogs against your glasses. You haven’t needed them to see for a long time, but there’s a familiarity to their gentle weight on your nose, even if they keep sliding down. You keep meaning to get them tightened but never find the time.

All you have is time, even as your world burns. Your once friends fight, passionate screams ringing out as swords clash with oversized forks clash with a chainsaw. Brilliant violet light flashes with the strength of a sun, taking down a wave airships about to drop their bombs. 

And yet, the wind is gentle. 

You wonder if being there for someone, fighting anyone, could make you feel something other than this thick haze of melancholy. You doubt it. Your friends have left you behind because they thought that’s what you wanted.

Was that what you wanted?

Your memories are blurry, and they fade into one another. Routines you repeated like clockwork leave you with nothing. The waves clash as hard against the cliffs as they can, but there’s a sense that they’re only going through the motions. 

The miasma isn’t hot or cold. The taste of salt is faint, at best, and nothing stings. Everything in this word has had its edges dulled. You can’t bring yourself to care about Jane’s genocide, one way or another, and you know that probably makes you a bad person on some level, but you just... can’t. 

Caring would make you a hero or a villain. You aren’t sure you’re even a character, lost in this eternal never land, not a child but not a man. 

Gods clash and the earth shakes, in its dull and gentle way. For every soldier that falls, Jane and Meenah raise twice as many with their powers of life. Kanaya is a storm of blood, righteous fury mixed with ecstasy as she licks the wayward splatters. Karkat’s passionate speeches propel a coalition of rebels forward, even against the odds. You can’t see Rose but you know where she’s been from the colors. Her shadow is those sparks you saw when you stared directly into the sun and closed your eyes, back when you were young and reckless. 

This what happens when real gods clash.

You are one of them in name only. Even your son is braver than you, watching Vriska and Tavros’s backs as they take on squadrons of loyalists. You’d worry about them if you didn’t know all three were more competent than you are.

It’s easy to blame your emptiness on this painfully colorful yet blunted world. When that excuse fails, you blame a choice you made years ago that seemed so important at the time. But beneath all that, there’s another answer. A harder one to acknowledge.

Maybe it’s just you.


End file.
